


Мамочка - Mamochka

by MiriamMT



Series: Gallavich OneShots (no smut) [10]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Death, Milkovich Family, Milkovich mother - Freeform, Terry Milkovich Being an Asshole, Young Mickey Milkovich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21524626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamMT/pseuds/MiriamMT
Summary: I'm obsessed with the Milkovich mother. So this is a story on how Mickey found her.... dead.
Series: Gallavich OneShots (no smut) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1525730
Comments: 1
Kudos: 39





	Мамочка - Mamochka

**Author's Note:**

> Мамочка is Ukranian for 'mommy'  
> It's pronounced mamotchka.

Mickey was seven years old.  
He and his siblings walked home from school, the two oldest brothers weren't with them. Jamie and Joey were on a run to the store, to get something to eat for tonight.  
Mickey held his little sister's hand and she giggled at the silly Iggy and Colin, who ran around and chased each other playfully. 

They reached the house of horrors.  
Their house.  
"You think dad's home?", Mickey asked Iggy.  
"Fucking hope not, he wasn't today morning, didn't see him since he left for the bar last night" 

They entered the house.  
"Mom?", Mickey asked with a raised voice.  
"Hey, Iggy, can we go play outside? It's good weather, I wanna play something!", the five year old girl beamed at her brother.  
"Of course, Mandy! We'll wait for Jamie and Joey with the food outside – you wanna draw something with your new chalks?"  
Mandy nodded grinning and ran to her room to get her chalks that Mickey stole for her birthday a few days before. 

"Mickey, you come too?"  
"I'll come in a minute, I just want to talk to mom first"  
"Okay, can you ask her to come out as well?", she smiled and walked out of the door with her brothers. 

Mickey walked to their mother's bedroom.  
Mickey loved his mother, she was way too young to have so many children and such an old husband.  
When Terry was in one of his moods again, he would get angry at the smallest things... and aggressive... and violent. 

Once, his mom would cook dinner and Terry would throw a beer bottle against the wall, because he thought it was funny to scare his wife. But she was so startled, that she let the plate in her hands fall to the ground.  
Terry was so angry at her for that, that he punched her across the face so hard, that she fell to the ground. Then he would proceed to kick her against her arm, while screaming at her. 

This wasn't something unfamiliar for the Milkovich kids.  
Their mom being bruised up, Terry being drunk, him beating her in front of them. Their mom crying when Terry wasn't there and her screaming and begging him to stop when he would get into bed with her at night after he was high or drunk.  
But what were some small children, that had to steal their own dinner way too often, supposed to do? 

Their mom was the only good thing in their lives. She was protecting them from their dad, they knew that.  
"Мамочка? "  
He opened the door, guessing to find his mom sad and crying, but he didn't. 

The seven-year-old stopped and stared at the bed in front of him.  
There lay his mother... her blue eyes opened wide, glazed over.  
She was naked, she looked like she had ripped the bedsheet apart in terror, the scraps of cloth next to her slack hand.  
Red blood was smeared all over her legs, the sheet under her soaked in the same red liquid.  
A bloody knife lay next to her pale body. 

Mickey leaned against the door, closed it and couldn't move any further.  
"Ма-мамочка?", he whispered.  
She didn't move, she didn't hear, she didn't see, she didn't... breathe.  
Mickey felt his eyes brim with tears, he slid down the door.  
"No, no, no, no", he whispered and felt the tears run down his cheeks. 

"Iggy!", he heard his sister's voice outside giggling.  
Mickey ran his hands through his hair, crying, he felt like he couldn't breathe.  
He finally took a deep breath and looked at his mother again. 

He stood up on shaky legs and took the bloody knife in his small hands. He took a towel from nearby and started wiping the blade clean, then he made sure to wipe his father's fingerprints from the handle of the knife as well, before putting it on the nightstand. 

He looked at his bloody, bruised up mother, he sobbed and rubbed with his sleeve over his face, trying to dry his tears.  
He turned around to the closet and took some of his mom's underwear out. He swallowed and pulled the new underwear up his mother's legs, it was the least of what she deserved of respect. He turned to the closet again, and pulled out one of her favourite dresses, it was black and had red and blue flowers on it, Mickey liked it... it was pretty...  
Mickey zipped the dress down and pulled it up her legs as well, he had trouble, lifting her lifeless body to get the dress on her body. He moved her arms into the sleeves and heaved her to the side to zip the dress up.  
Afterwards he pulled her up on the bed, having her lay more on the pillows.  
He took the towel again and started to try and clean the blood of the sheet, but it was hopeless, it was already dry. 

He aggressively tried to rub the blood off the sheet, he started tearing up again when he noticed it didn't work. It wouldn't come off, it just wouldn't come off!  
Mickey started crying and sobbing. He couldn't understand, why it just wouldn't work! Why wouldn't the blood come off? Why couldn't Mickey clean it off? Why couldn't one thing in this fucking house work out the way it was supposed to?  
Mickey kneeled on the bed and let the towel drop to the ground, he put his face into his hands and cried, his whole body shook violently. 

He needed a few minutes to calm himself. Eventually he crawled from the bed and grabbed the blanket next to the bed and pulled it over his mother, then he gently closed her blue eyes.  
He dried his face with the hem of his shirt and took the towel from the ground, he walked into the living room and hid it in the fire place. 

Mickey took a deep breath and opened the door.  
"Co-Colin?", he asked the older brother, "Could you... could you come for a second?"  
Colin looked at him confused. He noticed the redness in the face of his little brother and quickly walked into the house.  
Iggy and Mandy followed them. 

They walked into the bedroom and Mickey made sure to hold Mandy back.  
The girl started screaming and kicking when she got, what was going on. The brothers could just stare in shock, before Colin was finally able to call 911. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Mickey sat up in his bed, he was covered in sweat and breathed heavily.  
"Mick?", he heard a familiar voice next to him in the dark.  
Mickey couldn't answer him, he felt tears staining his face. 

Ian found the light switch for their little nightlight.  
"Hey, are you okay?", Ian asked sleepily and put a hand on Mickey's arm, "Another nightmare?"  
Mickey couldn't even answer him, to concentrated on his inability to breathe.  
"Come, lie back down, everything's fine, you're with me, nothing's gonna happen to you" 

Mickey swallowed and lay back down, the ginger pulled him close.  
"What was it this time? Your mom again?", he whispered and ran his hand up and down Mickey's arm.  
"I should've... I should've helped her before... I should've done something...", he whispered. 

Ian kissed his forehead and caressed his cheek.  
"Shht, no, you were a child Mickey. You were seven, there was nothing you could've done to help her."  
"I should've called the fucking 911 or some shit. Maybe... maybe they could've rescued her..."  
"Mickey, no, you know that's not true. You did nothing wrong, Mickey. It's not your fault... just your dad's... alright?" 

Ian pulled the blanket over the two of them and cuddled Mickey closer.  
"Go back to sleep, baby... I'll keep you safe, I promise"  
Mickey wrapped his arm around Ian's waist and held onto Ian's shirt.


End file.
